Marked
by Dancer92
Summary: A young girl named Ana's journey through her transition and the creation of Morganville. Follow Amalie, Oliver, Myrinn and the new characters as they begin the building the town and strive for a better future.
1. The Shadows

**Chapter One **

**The Shadows **

**Life, death, what was the difference?  
What was the true meaning of life?**

**Was I merely created to bow low to those of higher rank? **

**To serve willingly for payment unsatisfactory? **

**Yes, I dull voice in the corner of my mind answered. Of course you were other wise, what was the point of your existence? **

**I sighed and gazed out of the grimy window at the dark, cloudy clouds set low above the horizon. Great, another dreary day in Flockford. **

**The year was 1899, and the thrill of the Industrial Revolution was wearing thin; work had become a tedious burden and however lethargic or despondent I felt, Phillips Mill called to me. I swung my long red hair behind me and pinned it back, as was compulsory. I hated pinning my hair back; it emphasized the paleness of my skin and tightened my eyes making me appear continuously surprised. I turned, about to depart for work when I caught my reflection staring back at me from the broken shard of glass I used as a mirror. Realising I had forgotten my mop-cap I quickly fetched it and tied it on, staring at my reflection the whole time. My hair had darkened over the winter and the golden streaks and dispersed leaving my hair dull and lifeless. My Mother, Olivia Locket, had shunned me the moment the blonde streaks left my hair; apparently, red hair was a sign of the devil. The superstitious accussion still made me chuckle. I glanced out of the window again and noticed that the folks in the square below were walking with hunched shoulder, pale, solemn faces. I brought a hand to the base of my throat as I gasped. Another had gone missing. **

**September had been a month filled with sorrow, horror and fright. The streets were awash with the blood of innocents and it appeared that the months emotions were going to continue into October. **

**Two days ago little Jake Jenningson had gone missing as he played ball in the street; the boy had only been **_**seven**_**! He had barely lived, and just yesterday his mangled body had been found atop the over hang of Grandle Bakery. I descended the stairs slowly and exited the house, before returning and grabbing my lunch from the kitchen counter. I strolled across the street, muttering incoherently to myself, mounted the three low steeped stairs, stood under the old lamppost, and settled down to wait. As I waited I noticed that the streets appeared to be fewer in number and the sound of children's laughter no longer filled my ears. It saddened me to know that folk were too afraid to be out during the **_**day**_**, never mind at night. I felt a slight tap on my shoulder and wheeled around, stumbling down the uneven steps during the process.**

'**Rachel, don't do that.' I said brushing off my skirt. **

'**I'm sorry,' she choked. I glanced up and met her tear filled gaze and immediately felt a stab of fear and guilt.**

'**Oh, Rachel, who- ?'**

'**Lester.' She said swaying on the spot, 'Lester Price.' **

'**Oh Rachel,' I said, instantly I felt horrible for snapping at her and enfolded her in a hug, 'I'm so sorry, I know you were fond of each other.' **

**I awkwardly patted her on the shoulder whilst my thoughts raced. Lester Price. Quite frankly I had no idea that he and Rachel had been friends, although, judging from Rachel's dramatic appearance my theory was correct. Lester Price had been a youth of whom my mother used to talk quite highly of, that is until he married Heidi Woods, and lowered his social status. The fact that Lester Price had gone missing was peculiar. True, he had many enemies, though they were all dead, or moved away. Nobody**_** I**_** knew of no longer held any grudge for Mr Price, apart from my mother, though I didn't believe he had the strength or the patience to murder anyone. I bit back a smile and pushed a lock of dull, blonde hair behind Rachel's petite ear. **

'**There there. It's alright' I murmured into her left ear. She gasped and buried her face deeper into the crook of my neck. In some ways Rachel reminded me of a child, my child. She was so small and dainty, almost like my old hand painted doll that was buried in a chest somewhere in my bedroom. A few moments later Rachel lifted her heart shaped face and jerked her head in the direction of Phillips Mill. **

'**We better get going or we'll be late' she whispered, so quietly I had to ask her to repeat her words. Instead of replying she merely grabbed my left hand and began to pull me down the litter filled streets towards the mill. **

**Phillips Mill was much like any other, of course, I had never been further than the Old Oak tree on the outskirts of Flockford, so I had nothing to compare it to. The mill was old, dirty and loud. Grimy windows blocked all sunlight from entering the already sweltering rooms, windows too rusty to open and provide fresh oxygen; I detested it. Harold Phillips was the owner of the mill, he had been in charge for over 10 years, and soon was passing leadership over to his son, Peter Phillips. Mr Phillips Jr, had only just turned eighteen and he already carried an air of superiority and command. He walked with an edge of confidence I deeply envied, and he was always so sure of himself; or maybe he just appeared that way in public. **

**Rachel nudged me slightly and I shook myself awake, before me was Peter Phillips. His light blue eyes were dim and subdued, his golden hair a mop, and his shoulders slumped as he strolled across the small courtyard at a brisk pace in the direction of his home. Every day at a half-hour past six he would walk past from the bakers shop on Oakley Road. We would always be there to make sure that he safely made it to his house. **

'**He is beautiful,' Rachel sighed passionately. **

'**Beautiful?' I scoffed, 'isn't that what a man usually calls a woman?' **

**She shook her head adamantly before replying, 'A man who is evil inside can be handsome, but a man who is kind on the inside and handsome on the outside can only be described as beautiful!' **

'**I'll take your word for it.' I said staring after Mr Phillips. 'I wonder why he appeared to be so depressed.' I said as an after thought. Rachel didn't reply and we stood there, gaping for a few extra seconds before I grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door to reality. **

**I immediately inhaled a clump of dust and coughed until my lungs heaved, I hate this place, I thought sourly. Fighting past the desire to vomit, or run away, I straightened my shoulders and strolled to my machine, Thomas, I had christened it. As I waited for the machine's to be turned on my thoughts wandered to Mr Phillip Jr. I sighed, Rachel was right, he **_**was **_**beautiful. True the only conversation we had ever had was short and did not make much or an impact on either of our lives, but it was more than others could say. I remember that day vividly. I had been walking, well running if I was to be true to myself, and had darted round the corner and collided with him. His strong arms caught me before I could hit the ground and he smiled slightly before resting me back on my own too feet. **

'**Perhaps you should slow down a little Miss, you don't know how lucky you'll be next time,' he had chuckled a little before turning and walking back the way he had come, while I stood their dumbfounded. **

'**Thank you,' I had called after him, I still don't think he heard me. Shaking my head slightly I glanced down at my machine. **

'**Start,' I whispered, 'then I can go home,' **

**There was a low groaning as the crank was turned and whatever started the machines began to work, it almost sounded like Thomas was laughing at me. I brushed my hair out of my eyes and began to work. I suppose I wasn't paying as much attention to what I was doing as I usually did. The new murder, or disappearance, as ignorant folk called it, was certainly for me, the queerest so far. Unlike many people in Flockford, I was not fearful of the murderer, but curious. I could not comprehend how anyone could be as vile and evil as this person. It fascinated me. I also could not understand why the only people that the murderer seemed to have a passion for were men. Did this mean that the murderer was a woman? If so, that was a trifle bit disconcerting. True, women had been known to murder husbands or fathers in the past, but this was not over something so petty as inheritance or adultery, no, this was an obsession, and a dangerous one at that. If the Flockford murderer was indeed a woman- I shuddered slightly, I did not want to think of what the woman's incentive was and what the consequences would be. **

**I jumped slightly as Thomas gave a rather loud huff. The machines still frightened me, after nearly ten years of service I could not comprehend why I felt such fear for them. I glanced down at my right hand, oh yeah now I remember, I thought to myself sarcastically. During my first month of working here I had lost my little finger on my right hand, this made writing incredibly difficult, not that I knew how to write **_**well **_**especially using my right hand; I still cringed when I looked at it. A loud grating noise brought me back to present and gaped in horror at the sight before me. Blood….there was so much blood. I whirled around, a trembling hand pressed to my heart and I screamed for help. **

**Hours later Rachel joined me outside in the courtyard, we were only permitted a 15 minuet lunch, and unlike the rest of the workers, I would stand in the courtyard trying to breathe in clean air, no matter the weather; if it was raining or snowing I would be found under the under hang, it was raining today and I gazed at it unthinkingly. **

'**Are you alright Ana?' Rachel asked hesitantly. I sighed slightly and nodded. She didn't buy it. **

'**Nobody blames you Ana,' she said rubbing my shoulder, I shook it off angrily, 'There wasn't anything you could have done.' **

**I nodded, not really listening to her. I wasn't in the mood for her incessant chatter. **

'**Alice-Jane just wasn't fast enough, you've been there, you know that you have to get in and out as fast –' **

'**Who do you think is murdering people?' I said interrupting her. Rachel merely gaped at me in surprise, 'and why do you think the only people dying are men? Do you think it's a woman? **

**Rachel seemed to find her voice, 'I'm not sure Ana, I mean, why would a woman-' **

'**Exactly!' I interrupted again, 'Nothing adds up!' **

**Frustrated I sat on the old stone bench with my arms crossed, glaring at the rain. I felt Rachel sit down beside me. **

'**Don't you care about Alice- Jane?' she asked hesitantly. My fingernails bit into my arms as I tried to restrain myself from hitting her. Stupid girl, she has no idea what goes on in my head, then again, neither do I. **

'**Of course I do! Years ago I was almost in the same predicament, yet, what's one more death going to do to this town?' I said sharply. She drew in a quick breath and nodded slightly with her head bowed. I felt like her Sunday school teacher, shouting at her in this manner. **

'**I'm sorry Rachel,' I said, though I felt no guilt what- so- ever, 'I had no right to –'**

**Her head snapped up and her eyes were startlingly cold. **

'**Yes you did, I can't believe that I said that! What is **_**wrong **_**with me?' she said exasperated. **

'**Nothing is wrong with you Rachel, you asked a question, and I answered. True I replied rather indecently, but that's not your fault.' **

**She smiled slightly, 'So who do you think is responsible for these attacks?' she asked. I gazed at her happily; at least she changed the subject, now I didn't feel quite so awkward. **

'**I'm not sure,' I mused, 'I personally am leaning towards the fact that the person responsible is a woman.' **

**Rachel looked at me, her eyebrows knitted together and her lower lip pouted slightly. **

'**I don't know why, it's just, only men have been attacked, this could be the work of a jealous psychopath.'  
An act of realisation dawned onto Rachel's face. **

'**What?' I asked, excited now. **

'**It's your Mother!' she declared laughing, all seriousness gone now. I joined in with her laughter. **

'**Really though,' I said a few moments later, 'who do you think it is?' **

**The laughter slid of her face slowly and she shrugged. **

**I huffed; this was getting more than a little bit frustrating. **

'**Why don't we go and see Johnny Moore?' **

**I looked up sharply and let forward slightly, 'What's he got to do with anything?' **

'**I've only heard rumours,' she said holding her right hand up, 'But people are saying that Johnny Moore knows a lot about what's killing people.' **

'**And what's killing people?' I asked intently, she glanced around, her right hand clenched tightly around her cross. **

'**Vampires,' she whispered **

'**Vampires,' I scoffed, 'there's no such **_**thing **_**as Vampires!' **

**Her hand tightened around her cross. **

'**You don't believe it, do you?' I asked condescendingly **

'**No,' she said, though her eyes didn't meet my own. **

'**You do don't you!' I laughed, my own friend, a super- natural freak. **

**She drew herself up angrily, 'Yes well, I look at all the evidence before I make judgement!' **

'**What evidence? I asked with my eyebrows raised, she threw me a withering glance before leaning forward and replying. **

'**Look, Ana,' she said, 'if you want me to even try and explain, your going to have to open your mind a little, okay?' **

**I nodded vigorously, anything to get an answer. **

'**Well, people are being found on top of lampposts, roofs, high walls, right?' she said looking at me for confirmation to **_**her**_** story, I nodded once, satisfied she continued, 'so you tell me, who do you know that can climb those walls carrying a **_**body**_**?' **

**Her eyes bored into my own; I was the first to look away. Smiling smugly she stood and offered her hand out to me. **

'**We need to get to work,' she said when I just looked at it. **

'**Oh,' **

**The work bell rung and my hand jumped into hers, laughing she pulled me to my feet and we dropped hands. **

'**Think it's time for work?' I asked sarcastically. She smiled slightly and began to walk towards the main room I followed her, thinking hard. I caught her hand again before we entered. **

'**Tonight, half-past eight, come to my house,' I whispered **

'**Why?' she breathed, glancing over her left shoulder. **

'**We're going to go and see Johnny Moore.' **

**It was a quarter- past eight and Rachel would be arriving in fifteen. I rose and went into the kitchen and began to stir up a pot of tea. Whilst waiting for the tea-pot to whistle I gazed out of the window repulsed by what I saw. How much waste could one street take! Endless garbage heaps lined the walls like barricades, it was a wonder anyone could get inside their own homes with these stagnant defences in their way. I turned and placed a hand on the kettle base to feel how long I would have to wait, still cold. I returned my gaze to the window and jumped back knocking the tea-pot onto the floor. I didn't care; what I had just seen made every thought I had ever made insignificant, every spark of fear I'd ever felt, a child's nightmare. A face had been gazing in at me, its eyes wide with hunger. A face only described from nightmares, a dead face. I had just seen Lester Price. **


	2. The Lampost

**Chapter Two **

**The Lamppost **

**My feet stung as I ran, full pelt, over the cobblestone streets in the direction of Dairy Road. My dress hem began to weigh down from the mud and water soaked into the material and the puddles splashed under my feet spraying water in all directions, yet still, I ran on. I reached the edge of Dairy Road and paused to catch my breath, the grass bent to the north –east and my hair, which had come unbound, whipped about my face. I heard a scream rip into the air from the shadows behind me and broke into a run. In seconds I was at number 6 Dairy Road, and banging on the door with clenched fists. I low rustling from the bushes increased my tempo into a panicked stricken attack, and my breathing came out in gasps. The door suddenly flew open and, unbalanced as I was, I fell inside. A pair of strong hands caught me and my eyes opened wider than they already were. **

'**You should slow down more; I may not me here the next time you fall.' A soft voice whispered into my ear. My head shot up and smacked into his straight and perfect nose. Instantly his hands released me and I fell in a heap onto the straw covered floor. I string of profanities were being muttered in the background and I blushed before rising to my feet, rather un-gentlemen-like, if I say so myself. **

'**I'm so sorry,' I apologised with my eyes on the floor, I was afraid to look up and see the look of disgust and anger on his face. I low chuckle broke me out of my thoughts and I chanced looking up through my unbound hair. I let out a sigh when I realised that the chuckle had come from **_**him**_**, Peter Phillips. **

'**Its quite alright, I should have expected such a reaction,' he replied with a hint of arrogance. My pride reared high at this comment and I brushed my hair from my face angrily. **

'**And why would you think that?' I bit back, forgetting briefly, that he was upper-class. He wasn't fazed by my hostility and replied with a slight smile. **

'**Simply because I seem to consistently be catching you in some manner whenever we come into contact.' Instantly I looked down, a knee- jerk reaction. **

'**Why are you here?' I asked with my eyes on the floor. **

'**Mr Phillips has been attending to my needs this evening,' a watery, weak, voice replied. We both wheeled around and looked into the doorway to the parlour, Peter's face filled with worry, my own, filled with shock and horror. Heidi Price was no longer the beauty she was just days ago, contra, she was quite the opposite. Her once shining golden hair now hung around her face lank and dull; she looked as though she had lost several pounds, and her eyes. I shuddered involuntarily; once shining blue eyes now were lifeless, buried beneath shadows of worry, Death's face could have been more attracted. **

'**Is there a reason for this intrusion of my privacy Miss locket?' she asked. I flinched back from her tone and replied in a small voice which even I was disgusted with. **

'**I would like to speak with you in privet Mrs Price,' I said with a meaningful look in Peter's direction. I saw his head whip around to my direction from the corner of my eye. I didn't look at him; instead I kept my gaze firmly on Heidi's. She must have seen something in my eyes and she gasped. **

'**You- you've seen Lester, haven't you?' she whispered, her hand at the base of her throat. My facial expression grew pained.**

'**Please Mrs Price, I must speak with you in privet, what I have to say is for your ears only.' Her gaze grew penetrating and she nodded once before gesturing into the parlour. **

'**Please, seat yourself whilst I bid good night to Mr Phillips.' **

'**Ma'am, thank you.' I turned slightly and looked at Peter, 'Goodnight Mr Phillips, I hope you have a safe journey home.' I turned and strode toward the parlour, 'Oh,' I said as I turned back to them in the doorway, 'a word of warning sir, stay out of the shadows tonight; if you wish to see the sunrise,' I averted my eyes from his startled gaze and strode swiftly into the parlour. **

**Heidi swept into the room, just seconds after I had entered myself, some goodbye, I thought sourly. She seated herself opposite me and looked at me in anticipation, when I failed to begin she gestured emphatically with her hands. Taking a deep breath I crossed my ankles and began. **

'**I have seen your husband ma'am.' I said in a monotone. She did not notice my expression or the tone of my voice, instead; she clapped her hands happily together, and all anxiety in her face vanished and was replaced with upmost happiness. I couldn't believe that I would be the one to send her, mentally, into her own living version of hell. I buried my face in my hands and breathed in deeply. **

'**What ever is the matter, child?' she asked, confused. I raised my head slightly from my hands and looked her in the eye. **

'**He's not your husband anymore Ma'am.'  
She gazed at me uncomprehending for a brief moment, before she leapt to her feet and stood against the old, worn table. **

'**What is wrong with my husband, what have you done to him?' she screeched. **

**I sat back in my chair, what had**_** I**_** done to him? Personally, I thought that the trauma I had just taken part in was worse than anything I could have done to **_**him**_**! **

'**I haven't touched a hair on his head,' I answered truthfully. 'However, he has changed, a lot' A lot was an understatement. She sank back down into the hard backed chair and lent forward slightly. **

'**How has he changed?' she demanded, harshly. I felt slight defiance by her tone of voice and actually moved, ever so slightly, to begin to stride out of her front door without a second look. However, when I saw the torture behind the mask she held in place, I was unable to move any further. **

'**Please.' She whispered. I closed my eyes and went to stand beside the window. **

'**Before I tell you what I have seen, I beg you ma'am; please do not mistake the truthfulness of my answer to be the ramblings of an idiot.'**

**With wide eyes she nodded slightly and raised one hand to the base of her throat. I turned to the window and gazed out at the rain. **

'**Your husband is no longer the sweet, compassionate man we once knew, there is something about his eyes, his face, that is no longer, human' I whirled around and looked directly into her wide, frightened, eyes. **

'**His **_**eyes. **_**Oh God in heaven could not wish upon us a worse devil! His eyes are Red! They were as Red as Hell fires!' I crossed the small room in three quick strides and knelt before her, clasping my hands around hers, 'Not only were his eyes red with fire, but they smouldered, smouldered with such a terrible hunger!' **

**She stared at me with wide, innocent eyes. I sighed slightly and withdrew my hands; of course she wouldn't believe me, this was probably the most traumatic time of her life, besides the tax inflation. **

'**Where did you see this, look-alike?' she breathed, staring straight through me to the window. My head whipped around sharply.**

'**Look-alike? This was no look-alike ma'am. I have known your husband since I was a little girl; your husband was outside of my kitchen window tonight. His clothes so ragged and unwashed he appeared drunk.' **

**She suddenly seemed to snap back into herself and rose so she towered above me. **

'**There you have it, Miss Locket.' She said, staring down at me, 'the man you just saw was not my husband, for husband would never allow himself to get into such a state.' **

'**Ma'am, I assure you,-'**

'**Enough!' she command, I felt wetness on my face and reached involuntarily to wipe it off, she saw my hand twitch upwards and narrowed her eyes until I was sure she could hardly see me, 'you have risen above your station Miss Locket, it is very fortunate that I am a compassionate woman, for if not, you would be in a straight-jacket in the hospital before the sun has time to rise. Is that understood?' **

'**Yes, ma'am,' I murmured staring at the floor. She nodded and drew herself up to point at the door. **

'**Leave my house at once, you have played with my emotions, tortured my already aching heart and told me so many lies that I am surprised your tongue is not black and blue. Leave,' **

'**Goodnight Mrs Price,' I whispered. I turned and left the house without a backward glance.**

**That night I barely slept a wink. I tossed and turned in my small bed until I rolled too far and fell to the floor with a thump. I sat up aggravated, kicked the bed sheet off my legs and rose to my feet before any roaches or worse, rats, began to crawl all over me. I tramped over to the window and, after much pushing and shoving, thrown it open to allow the wintery air to blow into my face and refresh my thoughts. It was, for once, a cloudless night and the stars twinkled down from the heavens in a reassuring way. I inhaled deeply and lent forward slightly to gaze down at the street, I froze when I saw what was gazing back at me. His face illuminated by the moonlight and his dark eyes staring into mine. Lester Price was outside my window. He was exactly like he had been earlier tonight, his clothes ragged and patched, covered in dirt and grime; his eyes were as red as a sunrise and still he gazed at me with fevered hunger. One thing I noticed about him that I had not noticed before was the smell radiating off him, the smell of fresh blood. He smiled at me evilly, revealing in the process a pair of elongated teeth; before bowing mockingly and running down the street, I blinked once and he was gone. I stared in shock at the place he had been stood not sure if I had dreamt the encounter, I inhaled and nearly retched, though Lester Price had departed, the stench of fresh blood still lingered. I raised my eye level to the old lamppost and stared at it for a moment before noticing something hanging on top of it. It wasn't large and seemed to be lying in a spread eagle. From the distance I was at, it appeared to be a dog, or an absurdly large bird. I shook my head slightly; perhaps I **_**was **_**hallucinating a little. I closed the window and climbed back into bed, I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. **

**The blinding sunlight hit me through the grimy window and my eyelids fluttered open to a new day. I lay in silence for a moment, savouring the warmth of the autumn sun; it was much warmer than it had been yesterday. I made to move my legs, but found them to be too heavy, I was physically exhausted. I shrill scream snapped me from my lethargic state. In seconds I was out of bed and gazing out of the window at the square below. A crowd of people were stood gazing up at the old lamppost, Caroline Davies had fainted and was being lifted through the crowd by her brother and his friends; children were being wheeled around and sent back into their homes. Women were screaming and crying, men were yelling for a member of authority to come and conceal the specimen on display. Curious, I dressed quickly and raced downstairs as fast as possible. At the door I stopped. On the barren wooden floor was a single white piece of paper. I bent and snatched it up from the floor and unfolded it to gaze at the writing. True, I was not a genius at reading, but I was better at it than writing. On the paper were six simple, threatening words written in a spidery text that chilled me to the very bone.**

**Keep quiet, or you lose another. **

**I lose another? Who had I already lost? Suddenly realisation hit me and I wheeled around, clutching the piece of paper tightly, and burst out of the door into the street. In mere seconds I was at the base of the lamppost staring up at it with tears streaming down my cheeks. The person skewered atop of the lamppost was beautiful; her dull blonde hair blew in the wind catching the sunlight in a way I had always envied, even in death she was held gracefully; her doll-like features hanging limp and lifeless. Others were gazing in horror at the blood raining down from her demolished throat, her broken leg and neck, yet I only saw the beauty of this lovely woman. She was beautiful, but she was dead. The piece of paper in my hand was a reminder of who was to blame for this death, the words, written in blood. I swayed on the spot and keeled over backwards. A pair of strong hands gripped me tightly. **

'**Don't worry, I have you,' he whispered. **

'**I'm not worried, I am with you,' I whispered before falling into merciful darkness. **


	3. Darkened Days

**Chapter Three**

**Darkened Days**

**All I saw was blackness. No hint of light. No relief. There was nothing at all to pull me from the depths of my inner sorrow. I wanted to scream. To break free of the invisible bonds which were tying me to my own, private version of hell. Yet, I had no strength, nothing to grab hold of. Nothing. There was nothing I wanted outside of this dark world; the world of light held nothing apart from fear, sadness, remorse and destruction of those I loved. Here, nothing could harm them, could harm me. I relaxed and sunk, if it was possible, further into the darkness.**

**The darkness was turning misty. There seemed to be an opening that was letting out light. I found myself cringing away from the light. I didn't want to go back, I liked death better. **

**The light was becoming unbearable. It was too bright and it shone through my closed eyelids in colours of red. It hurt my eyes. I squeezed my eyes tighter trying to stay in the darkness. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I began to panic. I wasn't ready to go back, I wouldn't, and I couldn't do it.**

**My eyes snapped open and I was back in the world of light.**

**I tried to sit up but a pair of hands pushed me back down. **

'**You must rest, you're very weak.' **

**I slapped at the hands angrily, I was perfectly fine. I put my hands below my hips and pushed myself up into a sitting position, I felt my pillow placed behind me for support and I grudgingly slumped back onto it. Perhaps I was more exhausted than I thought. Apparently my companion noticed by expression that I was aware of my state, even if I admitted it whilst in frustration. I heard a low chuckle and my eyes wide-eyed slightly, it was **_**him**_**. Why was **_**he **_**here? Judging from my expression he understood the un-spoken question. **

'**I'm here because this is my home, and you're here because you collapsed in the middle of the street and quite frankly I didn't know what else to do with you.' **

**I felt the tip of my nose turn pink and ducked my head to hide it. **

'**Thank-you' I muttered and winced slightly. My throat felt scratchy and hurt when I so much as whispered. **

**He noticed my grimace of pain and rose silently and went to the nightstand, judging from his rumpled clothing I knew that this had been the first time he had risen in hours. I watched him confused, why was he looking after me? I was merely an employee and not a very good one when I thought about it. He wordlessly gave me a cup of water and resumed his seat; I drank eagerly and felt the cool water soothe my aching throat. Whilst drinking I kept my eyes trained on Mr Peter Phillips, and he responded by gazing into my own. I lowered my cup slightly and licked my lips. **

'**Feel any better?' He inquired. I nodded in response; he took the cup and replaced it on the nightstand. **

'**I'll be back in a moment,' he said softly before leaving the room.**

**I gazed around the room, it was beautiful. The beige wallpaper complemented the burgundy rug and bedspread. A large window had the curtains slightly open and I could see that it was nearly twilight. Twilight, it was already seven in the evening! I needed to be getting home, once the clock struck eight it would be too dark, and I would have little hope of returning home safely. I swung my legs out of the bed onto the cold floor and stood slowly, my legs felt shaky and unresponsive. I took several steps forward before the floor seemed to be closer than normal I stretched out my hand and steadied myself on the nightstand, breathing heavily. Sweat dampened my brow and I raised a shaky hand to wipe away the moisture and my eyes closed as the room began to go in and out of focus. **

'**What are you doing?' a harsh voice demanded. I moaned in response and my legs gave out, before I hit the floor Peter caught me and swung me back into bed. **

'**You aren't ready yet, you're too weak,' he said angrily as he replaced the burgundy bedspread over my shoulders, 'you need rest, Ana, please listen to me.' **

**I opened my eyes and gazed up at him,' You called me Ana.' I said. **

'**That is your name, isn't it?' he asked, a little uncertainly. **

'**Yes, of course, it's just I, well- you see-'**

'**Just eat Ana,' he said placing a tray filled with several pieces of bread and bacon onto my lap. I ate in silence and watched his every move. Once I was finished he took the tray off my lap and placed it on the already cluttered nightstand. **

'**Why are you looking after me?' I asked.**

'**I know that was your friend that died on Wednesday, and I felt compelled to care for you until you were well; besides,' he added wryly,' you did collapse on top of me. **

'**I did not!' I replied heatedly, 'Now, I do appreciate what you have done for me Mr Phillips, but I really must be leaving.' I attempted to rise from the bed, but his hands pressed down on my shoulders and in my weakened state it was impossible to resist. **

'**You are not leaving this bed until tomorrow afternoon at the latest; I will not be able to forgive myself if I found you dead on the corner of this street tomorrow due to physical exhaustion. Is that understood Miss Locket?' he demanded, angrily. His words had an impact and I bowed my head in defeat. 'Good, now get some rest.' He rose to leave me to my sleep. **

'**Mr Phillips?' I said, he turned at the door and looked back at me, 'Thank you' **

**A small smile tugged at his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment before he quit the room. I smiled myself and found myself falling back into the darkness. **


	4. Passin Time

**Chapter Four **

**Passing Time **

**It had been a week since Rachel's death, and yet, it seemed like it had only been yesterday. The streets were darker, quieter. Nobody else had died which I was grateful for, yet I wished that the last person hadn't been Rachel. I looked to the right, to the machine that had once been Rachel's; a new girl was working there now. Maria, I think her name was, or was it Mary? It didn't matter; I did not plan on engaging conversation.  
I had barley even glanced at the girl, until now. She was new in town, living with her brother I believe, many found it odd that she was unmarried as, even I had to admit, she was very pretty, exceptional beautiful I suppose. Her skin was a pale ivory and seemed to glow in the light, her hair, pinned as tightly as mine, was a dark brown with streaks of red through it that would be difficult to see if I wasn't staring so intently. Even though her hair was bound tight, her face did not look as surprised as mine did constantly, she was expressionless, yet her mouth was slightly turned up as though she was laughing at a private joke. Her eyes flickered to my face and there was a little hostility in them, they **_**burned**_**. She knew I'd been staring at her. I instantly dropped my gaze to my machine and with shaking hands sorted a few threads. The way her eyes met mine, it was as though I'd called her name across the vast room.**

Lunch came and I still couldn't shake the feeling that Ivory-Skin knew I'd been staring at her. I gazed out at the downpour and nibbled slightly on my apple.  
'Hello.' A soft voice said. Startled I dropped my apple on the floor. Great, there goes my lunch. I watched it as it rolled into the mud and was swallowed by the downpour. I sighed and glared up at my visitor. It was Ivory-Skin. I disliked her even more now. 

'**You owe me an apple,' I said harshly. She looked somewhat hurt and perplexed, good. **

'**I'm sorry,' she murmured, she played with a thin gold chain around her neck. When she did that she reminded me so much of Rachel that I couldn't help but smile and instantly forgive her. **

'**It doesn't matter, I over-reacted, and I'm sorry, hello.' **

**She smiled slightly, 'Hello, I'm Ysandre.' **

**Ysandre, well I had been awfully wrong, how does Ysandre even sound remotely like Maria or Mary? Maybe I really had lost my hearing working with the machines.  
'My name is Ana,' I said and extended my hand to her, we shook and I almost gasped at how chilled her fingers felt, but I quickly dismissed it as it was a cold day and my body temperature had dropped when I began working in the mill and had stayed at a toasty ten degree's ever since, or it felt that way. I gestured for her to sit beside me and she did. We sat in silence for a while.  
'So, I noticed you staring at me earlier,' she nonchalantly, she continued to stare out at the rain, yet her face had hardened slightly.  
'Oh, that,' I felt my nose turn pink, 'Well, you see, I lost a close friend of mine a week ago, Rachel was her name, and she worked on your machine.'  
She turned to face me and her face was filled with pity, I hated pity.  
'Oh, I understand' she said, the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, 'I lost someone a few year ago. My husband.' **

'**I'm sorry.' I whispered. She turned to me with a broad grin on her face.**

'**I'm not,' she spat, 'I hated every minute I spent with him, I'm glad he's in Hell, where he belongs.' **

**I just gazed at her, speechless. As she smiled at me I noticed her eyes were full of shadows, ones I could not easily read, and I was very good at reading people. I dropped my gaze and fiddled with the hem of my apron, Ysandre, had a past, a dark and foreboding past. I needed to create small-talk: small- talk was good, carefree… and secrets remain kept. **

'**It's raining,' I said gesturing. 'It rains a lot here, how long did you say you planned to stay in Flockford?' **

'**I didn't say,' she said harshly, 'if you'll excuse me.' She rose and left without a backward glance. I felt a chill wash over me and shuddered a little. That woman, Ysandre, there was something about her…something I didn't like. She had a presence, most definitely, but it was dark…almost, dare I say it, evil. **

**Work was finally finished and I was heading home, at night. I knew myself that it wasn't the wisest thing I should have done, yet, I only lived a few streets away. The streets smelt even worse than usual, smelt of decay and something undetectable, I hastened a little and was a street from my doorstep when I heard the shuffling of feet. I turned and was abruptly confronted with Peter Phillips. I exhaled slowly. **

'**Good evening, sir.' I said respectfully. He acknowledge with a small inclination of the head. **

'**Miss Locket.' **

**We both stood, staring at one another. It was a matter of propriety for a man to engage in conversation first. But I don't have much propriety. **

'**How are you, sir?' I asked timidly. **

'**Not well, Miss Locket, not well at all.' **

**Now that he mentioned it, he didn't look well at all. His face was pale, paler than mine. And his eyes were encased in shadows and lines. His usually pressed clothes were wrinkled and stained: and his hair was no longer combed but wild. He frightened me, I took a small step back and his eyes flashed when they saw this, my foot froze slightly before I placed my full body weight upon it and stepped back further. As I did he moved closer, mimicking my every action. **

'**What on earth is the matter, Mr Phillips? You don't look at all well.' My voice shook slightly and I detested myself for it. He merely chuckled and moved closer. I could now see every freckle on his face, the lines around his eyes, the faint whiskers beginning to grow- **

**Then he was gone. In the moment it had taken me to blink he had vanished into the shadows. The resemblance between his and Lester Price's movements made me shiver. I realised that it was late, and not wise to be out. I turned and almost ran the street. As I turned the corner I froze in shock. Ysandre was waiting on my doorstep. Her head down and rocking gently on her heels. **

'**Ysandre?' I called.**

**She looked up and smiling, waved at me. I made my way over and stood beside her, confused. **

'**I am sorry how I re-acted today.' She began, 'I was rude and it was uncalled for, I hope you can accept my forgiveness and we can be acquaintances.' **

'**Of course I shall forgive you, we **_**are**_** neighbours,' I said smiling slightly, 'now, how about a nice cup of tea to warm you?'**

'**I don't drink tea,' she replied. **

'**Oh,' I said, a little put-out I'll admit, 'well I will find something for you.' **

'**I am sure you will,' she replied. **

**I didn't see the manic grin upon her face. Nor the way her teeth elongated and became fangs. I merely saw the mask, and I allowed it into my home. **


	5. One In A Million

**Chapter Five**

**One in a Million **

**I bustled into the kitchen removing my bonnet and placing it upon the hook by the door. **

'**Now what would you like to drink? I have water, tea and even some coffee lying around' I heard myself say coffee and winced, I only had tea, why did I say coffee? Ysandre hadn't spoken yet, so I turned around to probe her with my eyes; it irked me when someone simply ignored my hospitality. As I turned, I was shocked to see Ysandre draped over my one and only chair smiling slightly, eerily. She flexed her fingers once, twice and tilted her head to the side, a small yet mocking smile upon her beautiful face. Unconsciously I felt my feet shuffle back, her grin merely widened at this. She rose fluidly and walked, practically danced to my side, small intricately slow steps. **

'**Im sorry about this Amelia, I truly am,' she whispered.**

'**It's Ana,' I spat, shakily I'll admit, but no-one has ever called me Amelia apart from my mother, which is why I chose the name Ana. She gave a low chuckle and I shuffled back further, or thought had, when I looked back up her face was before mine. **

'**Oh, but your so wrong, you can try and deny your true name, but it never escapes you my dear,' Ysandre drawled, the name gave me shivers. **

'**You know.' I felt her take a strand of my hair and roll it between her fingers, 'I have a feeling you will turn out quite fine.' She sniffed the strand she was playing with and sighed, 'if only,' she moaned quietly. My heart thudded and I felt droplets of sweat roll down my back. **

'**Be still, and calm, it shall be over before you know it.' I turned to gaze at her and to my horror saw her teeth elongate, vampire. I gasped and my feet shuffled awkwardly for a few seconds before I ran for the stairs. Suddenly she was there, right in front of me, grinning manically with her hand holding tight to my upper arm. Frantically I tried to pull free, but it was like fighting a brick wall. I saw her bend towards me slightly and only had time to gasp in horror as she plunged her fangs deep into my neck. I instantly felt cold run down my body, much alike my weekly bath, apart from colder, much colder. I shivered and my mouth opened to scream, as it did I felt something warm, much alike tea, drip into my mouth, apart from it was sticky, like honey. I felt it roll down my throat and suddenly I wasn't cold anymore. I was hot, too hot. My back arched and I opened my mouth and screamed, screamed until my throat grew too hoarse. Everything hurt; I was in so much pain. I could feel my bones breaking and, I hoped, fixing themselves almost as quickly, apart from they seemed longer than before, my hair seemed to be pulling from my head, prickling painfully. I felt tears run down my face and drip from my chin, and I just sobbed and sobbed, 'let it stop, let it stop.' I heard a small chuckle, a blow to the head and then darkness claimed me. **

**I opened my eyes to a new world. Everything looked so **_**different. **_**I could see every speck of dust and dirt, and being a normally incredibly tidy person, I was appalled at how dirty my house was. I sat up and felt two warm hands push me back down. **

'**Rest now, rest' I heard. I turned to look at the face of the hands and smiled, of course, Mr Peter Phillips had come to my rescue again. Except he didn't**_** look **_**like Mr Peter Phillips, his once blonde hair was now a deep chestnut tinted with red, and his eyes, a deep, dark blue, I could drown in those eyes. I flexed my fingers slightly and winced slightly. I glanced down and saw the droplets of blood that had come spurting out when my, now long, rounded, fingernails had punctured the flesh. I looked at Peter shocked. **

'**What happened to me?' I whispered, it hurt my throat slightly. **

'**I can answer that,' said a light voice from behind me. Pushing Peter's hands away I sat up and looked towards the doorway the voice had come from. A woman, beautiful beyond belief, walked into the room. She wore a simple brown peasant dress with a small silver bracelet around her wrist. Her blond hair was pulled away from her face with a simple black ribbon that contrasted brilliantly with her pale, flawless skin.  
'My name is Amalie; I am here to help you through this difficult time.' Her voice was soft and sang out in soprano. **

'**Help me with what-,' I gasped. My voice, usually deep and gravelly was high and melodious. 'What's happened to me?' I winced at my wind-chime voice. **

'**You have changed,' she answered in a condescending tone, this irritated me.**

'**Changed? Into WHAT! What is wrong with me?' I was so angry, I hadn't even realised I'd rose from the worn couch stuffed with moss. Amalie simply stared at me.**

'**Show her,' she said to Peter. Peter was suddenly in-front of me with the piece of glass I used for a mirror. I gasped at the reflection. My red hair was darker than normal, more auburn than red; my body, fluid even in stillness, and it was pale and perfect. But I wasn't drawn to the darker hair, nor the tall, flawless body, but the eyes. My once green eyes were now a dark blue, the same colour as Peter's. I wrenched my eyes from the reflection and focused instead upon Amalie. **

'**Please, what happened to me? What have I changed into?' I was close to tears, my hands wringed together as I beseeched her. She gazed at me steadily before replying. **

'**Ana, you are still human; but also part vampire. you will be a victim of your own thirst, and will live for eternity, however; you can die, easily, as your heart still beats, a little faster than a normal humans, but still traceable. You can also bleed. My dear, you are the first half-human vampire in history. You're one in a million.' **


	6. Change

**Chapter Six**

**Change**

**I ran down the narrow alley, my feet slapping the pavement, my right arm brushing the damp wall and my breath exhaling sharply as I ran and ran. Behind me I could hear heavier footfalls, quicker than mine ever could or will be. Taking a quick right turn I found myself heading straight towards a dead end, trash cans and debris lying in my path, I leapt over them and ran straight at the wall, I heard a low chuckle behind me and I smiled slowly. Right foot, left foot, arch of the back: just like Cynthia taught me and pushed back on the wall to arch away from the bricks to land behind Him. I tossed my long auburn hair behind my head and I almost felt my eyes glint with maliciousness as they turned from their dark blue to silver. He turned around slowly to face me.**

'**I should have known you would pull that move on me,' he said, his voice gravelly and shaky.**

'**Yet, you did not think to act upon it did you, Adrian.' I wrapped my hand lightly around my dagger, 'perhaps it may be time for you to simply accompany me to Morganville; your mind is slipping, clearly.'**

**He walked toward me slowly, his hands clenching and unclenching, the hair covering his eyes being blown around his face by the warm breeze, yet with the breeze came the putrid scent of rubbish and decaying animals and I couldn't help but to wrinkle my nose at the over-powering smell.**

'**My mind is **_**not**_** slipping.' I was suddenly pushed back to the graffiti ridden wall, his face in front of mine, so close our noses touched, 'I do not wish to be chaperoned to a restrictive pen, I enjoy living in the open, hunting when and where I wish,' he lent in closer, if that is even possible and I tried to lean away as his stinking breath polluted my personal space. 'I hear your heart, beating as fast as sparrows wings, it makes me thirsty.' I turned my face away and tightened my hand on my dagger as he leant in, his nose sniffing my long neck, paler than a human; though not as pale as a true vampire. 'So thirsty.' I felt his teeth graze my skin before I brought my knife up sharp, I felt the blood run down the palm of my hand and then the scent hit me and I felt my teeth sharpen slightly as I moaned. It had been so long since I had sampled blood, I lifted my hand to lick the palm clean all I could think about was the blood, abruptly Adrian was pulled away and thrown half way down the alley and another had taken his place.**

'**Lower your hand, Ana. You know you can't drink vampire blood it makes you sick.' His blue eyes burned into mine and I knew he was right, but I wanted it so much.**

'**Darling, please.'**

**My head jerked back up and I stared at him, my eyes burning into his, those dark blue eyes, I shook my head and glared at him.**

'**You have no right to call me that, get away from me.' I pushed past him and walked towards Adrian. The silver from my knife prevented him from healing and he lay on the concrete twitching slightly.**

'**Help me with this.' I said, 'I need to transport him to Morganville before sundown.'**

**I removed the knife and wiped the blood on his ragged clothing before grabbing his arms.**

'**Well, are you going to help me at all?'**

**Silence rang throughout the rancid air.**

'**Peter?' I glanced around and found a deserted alley; he had left me to deal with the scum on the street. 'Leave then, what you're best at,' I muttered under my breath as I lifted Adrian over my back and began to walk towards the end of the alley, 'what he's always been best at.'**

****

**1899**

**The first half-breed in vampire history. Would I want to drink blood? Sleep during the day? Never see a sunrise again, not that I saw too many before, but that's not the point. I twisted my fingers together and gazed down at them in shock, the finger I had lost years ago had, I couldn't think of another way to phrase this, but it had grown back, long and as supple like the others. I looked up at Amelie my tears falling fast down my cheeks.**

'**What does this mean? Will I have to drink blood? Sleep in a coffin?'**

**Amelie laughed an empty laugh.**

'**Sleep in coffins? No, that is something even true vampires avoid. It is possible that due to your human blood, the sunlight will merely burn you, not be a fatality. I believe that you will be able to live off food, yet your thirst for blood will overcome your hunger. It will be essential that you quench your thirst and do not allow it to overpower yourself.' All of this was said without any emotion, hollow and cold. I turned to Peter in shock, yet to my dismay he was gone. I looked around the room taking in every speck of dust and mite, but he was gone. He had left me alone with this woman, vampire, thing. He was gone. Gone. Amelie paid my pain no attention, either that or she didn't notice. **

'**I am in need of someone with your skills, Ana.' **

'**Skills?' I asked, my voice as empty as her own, 'I have no skills apart from that of the imagination and finding myself in unfortunate situations. How can I help you?' **

**She smiled a sinister smile and began to walk towards me. She looked me up and down with her eyes in seconds.**

'**You will require training. Extensive training.' **

'**Training for what precisely?'**

'**In time I shall explain, for now I shall take you to a vampire named Cynthia, she is very skilled and can perfect your skills in months rather than years. I expect you to listen to her and follow her direction as you will never find another more skilled, do you understand, Ana?' **

**I looked at her for a moment before I shook out my long auburn hair. **

'**Ma'am, take me to Cynthia.' **


	7. Apology

Sorry the last chapter was underlined. Don't know why that happened and I can't change it :/ sorry. xx


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